


Saturday--Sunday

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-01
Updated: 1999-04-01
Packaged: 2018-11-11 05:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11141985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Saturday--Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Saturday--Sunday

# *Saturday--Sunday*
    
    
    by Shinz Wong
    
    Harrowing would have been an understatement if used to describe how the
    day had been. Ray slumped forward and rested his forehead against the
    steering wheel of the Riv letting out a weary sigh of relief at the same
    time.  The police station parking lot was less crowded than it had been
    in the morning.  The night shift officers were just coming in and several
    glanced over at him as they walked over to the precinct building.  Ray
    decided to let them look because he was certain none would actually walk
    over and talk to him.  He didn't want to talk to anyone else that day.
    He was sore all over, his calves hurt, his jaw was swollen, and there
    were bite marks and bruises all over his body.  Most of all he wanted
    to go home, take a hot shower, collapse on his bed, and sleep until someone
    got worried that he had been in his room far too long and decided to
    come wake him up.  
    
    That someone, he concluded, would most probably be his mother or his
    beeper or his lieutenant or worst of all Fraser.  He would be ecstatic
    if  Fraser didn't come anywhere near him for the next year or so.  Every
    excursion with the Mountie turned out to be physically exhausting involving
    marathon chases, weightlifting, tussles with tenacious criminals, and
    mind-numbing irrational arguments with the most frustrating human being
    he has ever known.  He wasn't conditioned to spend his waking hours running
    miles and miles after criminals who were younger and in far better shape
    than he was.  He was born and raised in Chicago where they have cars
    and paved roads for crying out loud.  Ray shook his head from side to
    side to clear the murkiness and told himself, 
    
    "Vecchio, you gotta do some serious evaluation of this friendship if
    you wanna live to a ripe old age."
    
    The day had started out well enough.  He had walked into his department
    in  mid-morning and had been greeted by a smiling Elaine.  The smile
    had been contagious and Ray grinned back at her.
    
    "Had a good date last night, Elaine?  Finally had a reason to give up
    watching Friday night TV?"
    
    Elaine leveled her brows and gave him a "yeah, right" look but kept on
    smiling.  
    
    "Nope.  I'm happy because it's my birthday today, just in case you haven't
    noticed the flowers on my desk.  Fraser gave me a birthday present  too.
    Here, a detailed province by province map of Canada."
    
    Elaine saucily brandished the thick hard covered book that looked like
    a cross between the bible and Encyclopedia Britannica.  Ray smirked and
    thought how very like Fraser that was.
    
    "Yeah, happy reading.  At the end of two years, you'll be able to pinpoint
    I- don't-know-wheraluck--Canada on the world atlas.  Happy birthday,
    Elaine." 
    
    He leaned over and quickly gave Elaine a peck on her cheek and turned
    away before she would notice the utter embarrassment he felt.  Elaine
    gave him a knowing look and walked away to talk to another Civilian Aid
    officer who came bearing gifts.  Ray sat down at his desk and pretended
    to be busy for Elaine's benefit.  He had not remembered her birthday
    and did not have a present for her.  He felt like kicking himself when
    he thought about all the selfless help Elaine had given him and Fraser
    over the past year.  He had a dozen or so open cases in his "In" basket
    but he was rapidly losing concentration.  
    
    "Hey there, Detective!"
    
    Ray looked up and saw Willie grinning at him from in front of his desk.
    The boy was carrying a gigantic arrangement of two dozen roses and baby's
    breath which was about three quarters his size.  It was a very lovely
    though colossal arrangement and even had a miniature teddy bear sitting
    at its crown. 
    
    "Hey there yourself."
    
    "This here's flowers for someone called Elaine.  He said *you* should
    give it to her."
    
    "Who did?"
    
    Willie sneaked a quick glance around him and handed Ray a folded piece
    of paper.  Ray looked suspiciously at Willie before opening the note.
    It was written in Fraser's neat cursive.
    
    "Ray,  I  hope you won't mind that I took the initiative and bought a
    gift for Elaine on your behalf.  I'm not too sure if it's an appropriate
    gift but I received many floral arrangements and stuffed animals during
    my stays in the hospital.  The card has not yet been signed.  I'm sure
    Elaine will be very pleased at your thoughtfulness.   Fraser."
    
    Ray chuckled to himself, signed the card, scribbled a reply to Fraser
    and carried the roses over to Elaine who had been eyeing them ever since
    Willie walked in the door.  Ray received an impulsive hug as his reward
    and left a very contented Elaine showing off the floral skyscraper to
    amused passers-by.  Willie waved a quick good-bye and left.
    
    That little crisis resolved, Ray settled down to contemplate solving
    some real police cases.  Two hours later, his cell phone gave off a frantic
    buzz from within the depths of the coat draped on the back of his chair.
    What now?  Ray flipped the phone open.
    
    "Vecchio."
    
    "Ray..."
    
    "Frasier?  What's wrong?  You okay?"
    
    "Yes, I'm fine but I'm afraid Willie's not.  He's had an accident about
    an hour ago.  He was hit by a car and was badly injured.  I've brought
    him here to the emergency room at Mercy Hospital but they won't perform
    surgery on him because he doesn't have insurance.  Willie's left femur
    has been splintered and he's lost a lot of blood.  The doctors here have
    stopped the bleeding as much as possible but....he's in shock.  Do you
    think you can come down here and drive him over to Cook County Hospital?"
    
    "Oh God!  Sure, I'll get down there right away."
    
    Ray rushed out of the squad room yelling something about an early lunch
    to Elaine.  He found Fraser sitting in the waiting room of the ER.  Blood
    had soaked into the front of his red serge in many places and he was
    holding his Stetson dejectedly between his knees.  Fraser looked a shade
    paler than usual and was so absolutely motionless that Ray felt a sharp
    pang ricochet through his abdominal region.  Ray walked quietly up to
    his friend and put a consoling hand on his shoulder.  Fraser looked at
    Ray with a deep, profound gaze and then slowly his brows knit into a
    melancholy frown.
    
    "He was coming home from an errand I sent him on, Ray."
    
    Ray nodded,  "It was an accident, Benny."
    
    Willie was in a partially sedated state when they walked into the examination
    room and Ray could see blood seeping through the bandages on his left
    leg.  His left arm had also been injured below the elbow.  He was in
    a half upright position on the bed and opened his eyes, smiling weakly
    at the two men as they approached him.  Fraser and Ray leaned over the
    boy from both sides of the bed.  Willie turned to Fraser and whispered
    in a slur.
    
    "Hey, y'got his note?  Ad change leff from the flow'rs...y'got that too?
    In my pock't..."
    
    Fraser smiled down at him and put a finger to his lips.
    
    "Shhh.  Stop talking.  You can talk all you want tomorrow."
    
    Willie shut his eyes without replying as the drugs' effect overpowered
    him.  The boy was in pain even with the medication he had received. 
    A small crease between his eyes as he slept wrenched at the two men's
    hearts.  After a few minutes, Ray and Fraser looked across at each other
    in silence as medical personnel and patients rushed through the hallway
    outside the room.  Ray could see that Fraser was struggling mightily
    with his emotions.  Over the past year and a half, he had come to recognize
    the Mountie's almost imperceptible displays of feelings.  A slight frown
    and an intense gaze was all the indication this time but Ray knew that
    his friend suffered all of Willie's pain.  Ray reached across and put
    a hand on Fraser's forearm and shook his head slowly, giving support
    to this man who in normal times was everyone else's pillar of strength.
    
    "Let's get him out of here."
    
    They carefully maneuvered Willie into a comfortable position in the backseat
    of the Riv.  Thankfully, Cook County accepted him without too many questions
    but there was a lot of paperwork to fill out.  The boy was admitted to
    await surgery in the evening.  Fraser told Ray that Willie was in a lot
    of pain but hadn't lost consciousness after he was hit.  The Mountie
    had been on his way home from an appointment and had seen the commotion
    one street away from Racine.  He had rushed up to the crowd of people
    and seen Willie curled up in pain and moaning on the sidewalk still clutching
    Ray's note in one bloodied hand.  He had rushed Willie to Mercy Hospital
    and had felt compelled to be impolite over the insistence of the ER administrative
    staff that he produced proof of insurance for Willie while the boy laid
    there in drugged agony.
    
    "Did anyone see the car that hit Willie?"
    
    "There were several conflicting eyewitness accounts, Ray.  Everyone simply
    assumed that I was a police officer and told me what they saw while I
    attempted to hail a cab.  One woman said that a blue pickup truck had
    hit Willie while he was crossing the street.  Two others said that a
    red Ford Escort ran him over while Willie was standing at the curb. 
    To be frank, I am more inclined to believe a small car had hit Willie
    because of the position of his injuries.  He would have sustained more
    upper body injuries if it had been the pickup instead of the Escort.
    If you don't mind, Ray, I'd like to return to the scene of the accident
    and look around a little.  I didn't have much time to do it before."
    
    "I think you'd better go home and change first, Benny.  You've got a
    lot of blood on your uniform...and we'd better get you something to eat
    too." 
    
    Fraser nodded thoughtfully and turned his head toward the window on his
    side as Ray eased the Riv into the main street's traffic.
    
    ****************************************************************
    
    Fraser crouched at the curb where Willie had been hit and scrutinized
    the ground carefully.  His Stetson threw a shadow over most of his face
    in the late afternoon sunlight as he traced his finger around the area
    which had the largest blood splatter.  Ray was having an animated conversation
    over his cell phone with Lieutenant Welsh.
    
    "No, sir.  There are no witnesses here right now.....it was a hit and
    run."  Pause.
    
    "Yes, sir.  I understand that my lunch hour is long over."  Pause. 
    
    "Yes, sir....not really, sir.  I'll remember that....I'll be in later
    today.  Thank you, sir."  The phone was returned to his coat.
    
    "Find anything, Benny?"
    
    Fraser straightened up, took off his hat and grasped it tightly with
    both fists.  He drew in a deep breath and looked sideways at Ray.
    
    "The public phones within two blocks are not functioning and no one at
    the scene had a hand held phone, Ray.  I couldn't afford to wait for
    an ambulance and I couldn't afford to leave Willie alone either.  I decided
    to take him to the hospital myself knowing that the witnesses would be
    gone by the time I returned.  I took down the phone numbers of two of
    the witnesses, the others didn't want to involve themselves.  I called
    the first witness and his wife told me he's left for a week long trip
    to St. Louis an hour ago.  The other phone number appears to be non-existent."
    
    Ray nodded sympathetically and sighed troubledly
    
    "I'll get Elaine to check up on the Ford Escorts registered in this area.
    That's the best lead we have I guess.  Maybe we'll get lucky and find
    the bastard." 
    
    "There *is* something else though, Ray.  I  have reconstructed  the accident
    partly from the eyewitness accounts and from the evidence at the spot
    where Willie fell."
    
    Fraser walked a few paces away from the spot of blood.  He was standing
    at a T-junction and his position was at the left flank of the "T" from
    the perspective of a person with an aerial view, at the point where the
    lateral line joined the horizontal line. A car had just pulled up in
    front of him.  The front of the car was toward Fraser's left and the
    car slowly turned right to join the traffic of the larger street which
    was the horizontal line of the "T".   Fraser gestured with his left hand
    to imitate an on-coming car.
    
    "Willie was hit from the left and the speed of the vehicle could not
    have been very high.  If it had been moving at a high speed, he would
    have been thrown more than a few feet away by the impact.  But as you
    can see, he fell about four feet away from where he was hit.  Willie
    was not hit by a car coming from behind him on the main thoroughfare.
    If he had been, he would have suffered massive injuries on the left side
    of his back.  Also, a car coming down the large street would have been
    moving very quickly."
    
    "So, Willie was hit by a car turning right from the main street into
    this side street in front of us.  The bastard must have been making a
    fast turn and ran smack into Willie."
    
    "Yes, I think you are right, Ray.  The driver not only hit Willie and
    continued on but he or she also violated a traffic law."
    
    "What're you talking about?"
    
    "This street we're facing is a one way street."  Fraser pointed at the
    faded and barely noticeable sign nailed to the wall of the building on
    the opposite side of the street.  "I think the driver was unfamiliar
    with the roads in these parts." 
    
    "Either that or he was in a hell of a lot of hurry."
    
    "I disagree, Ray.  This side street connects the next street which is
    Rodman," Fraser gestured to his right, "and that was where the driver
    was apparently heading.  Rodman is also a one way street and leads to
    the freight railroad tracks.  It is used most often by large 18-wheelers
    to transport commodities to the cargo trains.  There's very little reason
    why a small passenger vehicle would want to go there.  Also, the next
    side street from this one is a one way *toward* Rodman Street.  I believe
    that the driver was a little lost and I doubt that he or she is from
    Chicago."
    
    Ray raised his eyebrows in disbelieving fascination.  He had learned
    to trust Fraser's instincts in cases that started out as basically impossible
    but Fraser's method of deduction was more than a little unorthodox at
    times.  And in this case, Ray didn't feel like jumping into any conclusions
    that early in the investigation.  All they had was a kid in the hospital,
    blood on the ground, contradictory stories, and no witnesses.
    
    "Great, Benny.  Now,  we can go look for a red Ford Escort from outside
    the greater Chicago area which means that it could be from anywhere within
    the state of Illinois.  It could be some perp from Texas or California
    or New York or from any one of the fifty states. Come to think of it,
    he could be a tourist from any one of the provinces or states or islands
    in Canada who decided to come down here for the weekend to smell the
    wonderful stench of Chicago's garbage and check out the really inspiring
    graffiti.  Oh, and don't forget Quebec 'cause that's a French province.
    Hell, he could even be someone from Mexico or South America who came
    up to catch the last bit of snow left over from Christmas."
    
    "Territories, Ray."
    
    "What?!?"
    
    "The Yukon and Northwest Territories are territories, Ray.  They are
    not states as you've just said.  The difference between a state and a
    terri...." 
    
    "Frasier!!!  At this very moment, the last thing I need is a lesson in
    geography."
    
    "It's not so much a geography lesson as the correct use of constitutional
    terminology...."
    
    "Benny...." Ray inhaled slowly trying to calm himself.
    
    "Yes,  Ray?"
    
    "You're my best friend but I'm going to choke you to death now."
    
    Fraser tilted his head to one side and took into account the veins which
    were rising on Ray's neck and forehead.  "Understood."
    
    The police radio in the Riv burst out noisily before Ray could make good
    on his threat.  Ray scowled at Fraser.  
    
    "Remind me to kill you slowly and messily, Benny."  
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    Ray responded to the all available units call to the downtown basketball
    arena.  When he was done, he looked up to see Fraser still standing with
    his head bent to the pavement.
    
    "Hey Benny!  I gotta get down to the basketball stadium.  Some kind of
    riot's broken out there.  I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"  
    
    He didn't wait for Fraser's reply as he slid behind the wheel and started
    the engine.  He was barely 20 feet away when he detected Fraser racing
    after him through the Riv's rearview mirror.  The Mountie jumped into
    the passenger seat with a  "May I come with you, Ray?"
    
    "Sure, but what for?"
    
    "A hunch, Ray."
    
    "Aahh!"
    
    ****************************************************************
    
    It was an ugly scene.  The Chicago Bulls had lost at home after winning
    over sixty consecutive games in the Bulls arena.  The Chicago fans were
    wild with grief and the Indiana Pacers fans were wild with joy.  After
    the game, some heated words and obscene gestures had been exchanged in
    a nearby parking lot.  Mayhem had erupted when no one would back down.
    Indianapolisians and Chicagoans exhibited their best big city subway
    personalities.  It was a true clash of the urban titans as the fans went
    at each other's throats.  Peacemakers had been rebuked with fists which
    resulted in more chaos.  The fighting spilled out into the streets. 
    After fifteen minutes, it was clear that the Pacers fans were badly out-numbered
    but the veterans of the mosh pits refused to surrender.  News of the
    fight flew through the streets and the other fans from Indiana who had
    attended the game and were still around rushed to their compatriots'
    rescue.
    
    By the time Ray and Fraser arrived, fist fights were raging at a peak
    and sirens were blaring urgently.  The fire department had arrived with
    hoses hoping that the water and the chilly April air would combine to
    calm down the rioters.  The Police Commissioner was there and would not
    allow guns to be drawn.  Uniformed and plainclothes personnel had to
    rely on their own strength and batons to separate the ferocious participants.
    Ray ventured cautiously into the fray leaving his gun with Fraser.  Fraser
    stood with his back against the Riv and winced slightly as he saw his
    friend getting punched squarely on the jaw by a female Bulls fan.  
    
    As he lost sight of Ray, Fraser turned around, locked up the Riv, looked
    carefully over the tumultuous scene and walked over to the ambulances.
    Paramedics were bandaging various bloodied parts of the anatomies of
    vanquished partisans.  It was easy to identify Pacers fans, they were
    all wearing Pacers T-shirts or caps or had their faces painted with their
    team's colors.  Pacers fans were also huddled together for comfort after
    the fight.  After all, this wasn't their turf and they were starting
    to realize that fact after the exhilaration of the adrenaline rush. 
    The more timid ones were holding hands or leaning against each other.
    Fraser picked up a crushed Pacers baseball cap from the ground, slapped
    it a couple of times against his jeans, pulled it on and approached the
    larger groups of sullenly triumphant Pacers fans.
    
    To each group he loudly proclaimed, with as much dramatics as he could
    muster, that he had seen a group of Bulls fans smashing and burning a
    red Ford Escort with a Pacers bumper sticker.  Forty minutes later and
    at the seventh group of wet fans, he noticed a young man standing at
    the fringe of the group look at him hurriedly and break away from everyone
    else.  Fraser let the young man gain thirty yards before jogging after
    him.  
    
    Fourteen years of grueling experience at the remotest RCMP outposts and
    years of tracking and hunting with his father before that had sharpened
    Benton Fraser's senses to the plateau of that of an Arctic wolf.  He
    has hunted man and animal alike, some easily and some others torturous
    beyond imagination.  One of the hardest searches he had conducted was
    the one for Victoria Metcalfe, she was a desperate animal, cold and frightened.
    Fraser's human prey were always desperate, the unforgiving ice and never-ending
    white wasteland had that abject effect on human beings.  The desperation
    never failed to turn into hatred when they came face to face with Fraser
    at the end of the chase.  He always overcame even the most vicious of
    them because he did not share their hatred and hopelessness.  It was
    not the same with Victoria.  When he found her, he had seen utter relief
    and joy in her eyes.  She had looked at him wordlessly and was totally
    motionless, her body temperature dangerously close to hypothermia levels
    but she had welcomed him nevertheless.  That was the first time he had
    felt cherished by a person he hunted.  And he had cherished her in return.
    He had never seen that look ever again or felt that silent but perfect
    gratitude.
    
    Fraser felt like he was tracking a well-fed black bear through a forest
    in winter.  The prey was noisy and made no attempt to cover its tracks
    or throw off any follower.  He just ran without looking behind him even
    once.  The young man weaved, coughing and heaving, through a few side
    streets before coming to a back alley.   From afar, Fraser noticed that
    he was making his way toward a red Ford Escort with a parking ticket
    tucked beneath a wiper.  The young man glanced over the vehicle, quickly
    unlocked the car and got in.  As the engine came alive, Fraser approached
    the car and bent down to inspect the front fender.  There was no doubt.
    The license plate was bent out of shape and the indentation was unmistakable.
    
    "Hey you!  Get outta my way!"
    
    Fraser looked up imperturbably, "I'm afraid I'll have to make a citizen's
    arrest, son.  You have been involved in disturbing the peace and you
    are also a suspect in a hit and run incident."
    
    Without another word, the young man revved his engine and the Escort
    lurched forward.  Fraser leapt to his right and grabbed the door handle
    with his left hand as the car shot by.  Opening the door with lightning
    swiftness he reached in and dragged the driver by his left arm from his
    seat.  The side of the moving car hit the young man's back as he tumbled
    out and fell to his knees, his right elbow grating the ground.
    
    "Owww, owwww, owwww!!!!"  He howled as Fraser hauled him to his feet.
    The Escort's momentum carried it another twenty feet before coming to
    a halt at the mouth of the alley.  The young man struggled frantically
    as Fraser tightened an already iron grip on his collar.  With his free
    hand, Fraser swung the young man's flailing left arm across his back
    and held it there firmly.  The owner of the Escort stopped struggling
    when he felt the vice-like clutch of the master hunter.
    
    "Hey man!  I wasn't driving the car, okay?  My gal was, okay?  She hit
    the kid."
    
    "We'll see about that.  Now, if you'll come with me please."
    
    Fraser brought the young man back to the scene of the riot.  The young
    man sensed that the tall stranger in the plaid shirt was deadly serious
    and went along unprotestingly.  Things had quietened considerably by
    then as the energies of the rioters were largely expended.  Fraser and
    his captive stood in silence by the Riv.  Fraser kept a hand on the young
    man's shoulder and was keenly aware of all the activity around them.
    The young man leaned against the Riv listlessly and did not look at Fraser.
    About twenty minutes later, a tall young woman moved away from a group
    of Pacers fans fifty feet away and came toward them.  The young man jerked
    to life and screamed at the top of his voice.
    
    "Run, Lori! RUN! RUN! RUN!!!!!"
    
    The girl he called Lori jumped noticeably, hesitated a split second,
    spun around and ran toward the crowd which was still fighting under the
    Chicago Fire Department's low volume hoses.  Fraser didn't have any handcuffs
    on him and mentally calculated the time that would be lost if he left
    his prisoner in the charge of the nearest police officer.  Out of the
    corner of his eye, he spotted Ray talking to a colleague by a group of
    rioters they had arrested. 
    
    "RAY!"
    
    Ray looked quizzically in his direction.  Fraser pointed at the back
    of the disappearing girl.
    
    "THAT GIRL IN THE BLACK PACERS T-SHIRT!  YOU HAVE TO 
    CATCH HER!"
    
    Ray briefly considered asking why he had to catch her, rejected the idea,
    shook his head and ran at full speed after the young woman.  
    
    ****************************************************************
    
    The rest of the evening had been less eventful.  The two exhausted suspects
    had admitted to hitting Willie.  They were on their way to the game,
    had lost their way and were arguing heatedly over the directions when
    they had turned into the one way street.  The young woman was driving
    and had crumpled into a sobbing heap after ten minutes in the interrogation
    room.  They were both below 18 and Lori didn't even have a driver's license.
    Ray deeply believed that she didn't have any more energy left to lie.
    She had used all her strength running from him, punching, kicking and
    biting him when he had caught her.  He had to handcuff her and sling
    her over his shoulder when she refused to come quietly.  Even then, she
    did her best to inflict spinal cord injury on him with her bunched fists.
    Angry kids are stronger than the Incredible Hulk, he decided in extreme
    fatigue.
    
    After assuring Lieutenant Welsh he would be back at the precinct to complete
    his share of paperwork for the day, Ray drove Fraser to the hospital.
    Willie was in Recovery when they arrived and Ray left Fraser there to
    keep vigil by their young friend's bedside.  Fraser had said "Thank you,
    Ray." as he reached the door.  Ray turned around, smiled at his friend
    who smiled back, and walked quietly away.
    
    Now he sat in the parking lot dreading the thought of the long night
    ahead. 
    
    ****************************************************************** 
    
    "Ray?  Ray?"
    
    "Go away, Frasier.  I'm too tired to be abusive right now," he mumbled.
    
    "VECCHIO!!!"
    
    Ray jumped out of his skin and looked up quickly.  He had fallen asleep
    over the typewriter with his head cradled in his arms.  The bustle of
    the morning shift personnel had not awakened him and his first conscious
    feeling was someone shaking his shoulder gently.  He recognized Fraser's
    voice saying his name.  But the other voice was far less comforting,
    in fact it was the scariest thing in the morning.  He swiveled around
    and saw Fraser looking concernedly at him.  His friend was in an impeccably
    clean dress uniform and looked bright and alert.  Ray swore disgustedly
    under his breath and proceeded to rub his tired eyes.
    
    "DETECTIVE!!!"
    
    "Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I hear you."
    
    Fraser gestured apologetically,  "State's Attorney St. Laurent was attempting
    to wake you, Ray.  I offered to do it after relating to her a Tsimshian
    myth about the journeys a human's soul undertakes while the body sleeps.
    The Tsimshian believe that a person must not be frightened into wakefulness
    or the skin will shrink and the soul will fail to find a way to re-enter
    the body.  The person must especially not be awakened by heavy objects
    slamming into the back of his head."
    
    Ray realized how close he had come to dying in his sleep and nodded his
    thanks to Fraser.  Louise St. Laurent glared dangerously at Ray.  Ray
    put on his best bleary-eyed front.
    
    "Ah, Louise.  Is the state of Illinois making you work weekends now like
    the rest of us underpaid, overworked cops?  Working becomes you, Louise.
    It brings out that special sparkle in your eyes and that healthy bellow
    in your voice.  I, for one, am glad to see you on Sunday."
    
    "Vecchio, two of your cases are going to court tomorrow.  Need I remind
    you that one of them is a first degree murder case..."
    
    Fraser interrupted helpfully,  "I was there with Detective Vecchio, ma'am.
    We found the body of the deceased in a locked room and the murderer also
    stole Detective Vecchio's watch.  As a matter of fact, I was escorting
    the daughter of Canada's senior trade negotiator...."
    
    St. Laurent spun around on Fraser.  In her most threatening tone she
    snarled at him,  "Do you know what I do with my free time, Constable?"
    
    "Er, no ma'am ...I don't."
    
    Ray raised one eyebrow in amusement.  He always felt a perverse pleasure
    in seeing Fraser cringe in the presence of women superiors.  Shoot him,
    stab him, insult him and he doesn't bat an eyelid.  But put him in the
    presence of a woman who ranks higher than he does and he is reduced to
    an intimidated, blubbering shell.  On second thought, almost any young
    woman has that effect on him but women superior officers have more occasion
    to yell at him.  Anyway, Ray was very interested in knowing what Louise
    did with her spare time.
    
    "I spend every available minute in the law library, Constable."
    
    Fraser's blue eyes widened and he intoned, "Aahh!" and nodded 
    understandingly.  Ray's eyes narrowed in a puzzled frown.  He personally
    knew that she doesn't linger away her off-hours in the law library. 
    Well, except for that one time.......
    
    "And do you know what I do there, Constable?  I pore through *every*
    legal document going back two hundred years looking for the legalities
    of the things you do here in this country.  I am looking for the slightest
    excuse to have you deported whether it be aiding and abetting a criminal
    or the obstruction of justice or spreading politeness and good manners
    in a city that doesn't need it.  And do you know what I'll do if I find
    such an excuse?  I'll break out the most expensive bottle of champagne
    this city has ever seen and I'll drink it to *my* health."
    
    "Yes, ma'am.  Very well, ma'am.  I'll leave you with Detective Vecchio
    now.  Oh, Ray.  I came to tell you that Willie's awake and he sent you
    these."  Fraser placed a brown bag of sugared donuts on Ray's desk, smiled
    sympathetically and started to move away.
    
    St. Laurent turned vehemently on Ray who braced himself hurriedly.  To
    his surprise Louise began to sway unsteadily, her eyes clamped shut.
    Fraser reached out quickly and held her shoulders.  St. Laurent grasped
    the side of Ray's desk.  Ray stood up quickly and leaned toward the state's
    attorney. 
    
    "Are you okay, Louise?"
    
    "Yes,"  but she didn't sound too convincing.  She put one palm to her
    chest and patted her blouse front slowly.  Her cheeks alternated between
    a ghastly green and a feverish scarlet.  
    
    "Can we be of any assistance, ma'am?"  Fraser inquired worriedly. 
    
    "No!!!  What do you *men* know anyway?  Just be quiet and don't 
    embarrass me."
    
    After a few seconds, she walked away without another word but a terrible
    parting killer stare at Ray.  Fraser and Ray looked at each other and
    then over at Elaine at the same time.  Jack Huey was with her and the
    four stared at one another completely perplexed.  Fraser spent the rest
    of the day summarizing Ray's court case files for him and straightening
    out his folders.  Twice, the Mountie started to say, "You know, Ray...."
    and stopped.  Ray didn't press him knowing that he was either going to
    hear an Inuit story or some of Grandmother Fraser's more bizarre feats.
    He was secretly glad Fraser was there although the dark cloud of Inuit
    tales hung constantly over his head.  His Canadian friend sped up a lot
    of his work and had a great industrious influence on him.  Elaine came
    over once to remark that St. Laurent had been acting strangely for about
    10 days now.  Jack Huey came over once to get a donut and also claimed
    that the state's attorney was scarier than usual.  Lieutenant Welsh came
    over once to ask if Ray had upset the state's attorney more than his
    normal quota.  Ray protested his innocence and the lieutenant left nodding
    grudgingly.  Happily, at 4:00 o'clock the bulk of the immediate paperwork
    was done, the files read, and the donuts digested.  
    
    "Let's go, Benny.  I'm hungry.  You should be too." 
    
    ****************************************************************
    "You know, Ray..."
    
    "Me first, Benny."
    
    The two men sat in their favorite diner over the remains of their burgers
    and fries.  They had dropped by at the hospital to see Willie.  Two of
    Fraser's neighbors who had gotten to know Willie were there entertaining
    the boy.  The Mountie and the cop left the hospital room with the sound
    of the boy's laughter echoing down the hallway.  
    
    "What, Ray?"
    
    "Why are you wearing your dress uniform on a weekend?  To look sharp
    for Willie?"
    
    "No, actually it's on account of Diefenbaker."
    
    "What's wrong with him?"
    
    "I'm not entirely sure and neither is the veterinarian."
    
    "Okay, I'm really worried now.  Tell me!"
    
    "It's actually quite humiliating for Diefenbaker but I'm sure he's learned
    his lesson now.  During the winter, his coat grew quite thick and now
    he's started to shed.  He's not shedding it bit by bit, Ray, he's doing
    it hurriedly and in large tufts..."
    
    "Get to the point, Benny."
    
    "Yes, Ray.  So, I took him to the vet who said to let nature run its
    course.  He never did shed this much in Canada and to be frank, I am
    a little worried.  Perhaps all the junk food he's eating is causing his
    metabolic..." 
    
    "Yes, it is Benny.  The sugar is aging him prematurely."
    
    "There's no scientific basis for that and the New England Journal of
    Medicine..."
    
    "THE  POINT,  FRASIER."
    
    "Ah, yes!  Inspector Thatcher has just installed a new rug in her office
    last Wednesday.  It really is a very elegant looking rug, Ray.  Most
    of it is a deep shade of emerald and its border is a rich copper.  It
    is also very thick as my boots sank into it right up to my ankles."
    
    Ray chuckled at the image of Fraser sinking into the rug while the Dragon
    Lady growled fire at him.
    
    "What, Ray?"
    
    "Nothing.  Go on."
    
    "There's a picture of two dachshunds woven into this rug and Dief somehow
    found it appropriate to impose himself upon this rug..."
    
    "Uh huh.  Way to go, Dief."  Ray felt a laugh crawling up his throat.
    
    "Well, he rolled about on it for the better part of Friday morning while
    I was standing guard and the Inspector was at a breakfast meeting with..."
    
    "So?"
    
    "So, the Inspector returned to find  handfuls of Dief's white hairs tangled
    in the strands of her new rug.  She ordered me to stand down before my
    shift was over which was very rare and happens only during the most severe
    emergencies, Ray."
    
    "Will you cut to the chase please?"
    
    Fraser licked his lower lip and grimaced before replying,  "She's suspended
    Dief."
    
    "Whaat?!?"
    
    "Yes, Ray.  The Inspector's suspended Diefenbaker until he stops shedding
    so heavily.  He's in disgrace and I was escorting him home from a private
    session with an animal psychiatrist friend of the Inspector's yesterday
    when Willie was injured."
    
    "So why do you have to wear your red uniform?"
    
    "Well, the Inspector wanted me to talk some sense into Diefenbaker as
    part of his punishment.  I had to be at my most formal as I was speaking
    as one fellow officer to another."
    
    Ray yelped with laughter and collapsed into the length of his booth seat.
    
    "It's not funny, Ray.  Diefenbaker has to understand that he can't shed
    wherever he wants to."
    
    "Benny, he's a wolf.  Wolves shed like dogs.  You can't fight nature."
    
    "Perhaps, but I tend to agree with the Inspector that Dief has to learn
    his lesson.  He has been restricted to a corner of my office when he
    returns to his duties at the Consulate.  The Inspector has suggested
    that a kennel be built for him in that corner with a makeshift cat litter
    so that he can shed without harming the carpet.  Those were her words."
    
    Fraser picked at his fries in chagrin as Ray shook with silent mirth
    and then the Mountie pushed a napkin toward his friend to let him dry
    the tears which were streaming down the detective's cheeks.  Ray finally
    had to drink some scalding coffee to calm himself.  Two more cups later,
    Ray looked across at Fraser with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.  Fraser
    was just starting to say, "You know, Ray..."
    
    "So, you asked her out for a date yet, Benny?"
    
    "Who, Ray?"
    
    "You know damn well who."
    
    "I'm afraid I don't."
    
    "I could tell you some good places to take her you know.  Raymond Vecchio's
    girlfriends never had cause to complain.  My motto is I always aim to
    please."
    
    "Could we discuss something else?"
    
    "Inspector Thatcher likes you, Benny.  Ohh, I can tell.  There was definitely
    more than just plain old cholesterol between the two of you in that egg
    factory.  Ha, and why did you take off your tunic anyway?"
    
    "I was merely...."
    
    "Speaking of clothes.  We gotta get you a new wardrobe."
    
    "What's wrong with my clothes?"
    
    "Oh, nothing...if you're a *lumberjack*.  I know this tailor, Old Joey
    Scurria.  He's been making suits for me and my brother for years.  Old
    Joey can make a double breasted suit like no one can.  What say we get
    you a nice suit and some shirts to go with it?  We'll clean you up and
    believe me, Benny, the lovely inspector and every other woman in Chicago
    will be dropping at your feet."
    
    "Why would I want them to do that?"
    
    "Oh, gimme a break, Benny.  God forbid you'll ever need a date."
    
    "I see no absolute need..."
    
    "Yes, you do.  Now, the way I see it, you're the expert on everything
    ranging from bacteria indigenous to the Arctic *to* the contents of every
    landfill from here to the Florida Keys.  But I'm the expert on women,
    okay?  And I'm giving you free advice here. You're the beneficiary of
    more than two decades worth of experience with the opposite sex, Benny."
    
    "So, you started uh....interacting when you were ten years old, Ray?"
    
    "Very funny, Frasier.  Oh, forget it.  It's easier talking to my mother
    about women."
    
    "Well, you have a very admirable relationship with your mother then."
    
    "Weren't you supposed to remind me to kill you?"
    
    ****************************************************************
    
    Diefenbaker looked in disdain at the two men as they came into Fraser's
    apartment.  He had been confined to the apartment all day and had not
    even been allowed to accompany Fraser to the police station.  The 27th
    precinct was one of his favorite places.  All those officers loved donuts
    as much as he does and there was always an abundant supply of tidbits.
    Even on bad days when scraps were not forthcoming, stealing from a police
    officer inside a police station was one of the easiest crimes to commit.
    
    Ray held up a peace offering in a doggy bag and shook it at the wolf.
    
    "Here, Dief!  This's for driving the Dragon 
    Lady........AAAAAHHHCCHHOOOO!!!!!"
    
    Ray's eyes widened in horror and he sneezed uncontrollably for another
    three minutes before sprinting into the hallway where he continued to
    sniffle pitifully for another five to six minutes.  Dief  bounded joyfully
    after Ray to claim his hamburger dinner.
    
    "Gut 'way fwom me, Jief!"  Finally Ray had to pitch the brown bag through
    the doorway back into the apartment.  Dief leapt happily back into his
    home to consume his meal.
    
    "Are you all right, Ray?"
    
    "No, I'm not!!!  There's enough fur in there for the whole damn winter
    collection at Saks Fifth Avenue."
    
    "I don't believe they sell fur coats there..."
    
    "Shut up!"
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    Fraser moved out into the hallway and shut the door behind him, effectively
    shielding Ray from the largest mass producer of wolf hair in Chicago.
    Ray leaned against a rotting wall in the hallway and shook his head to
    clear it.  Fraser handed Ray a roll of toilet paper and leaned thoughtfully
    against a wall across from his allergic friend.  Ray looked up from his
    pre-occupation with his nose a few times to see the Mountie staring at
    him with a slight frown.  
    
    "What?"
    
    "Hmm, oh, nothing."  
    
    "I don't like that look you have, Benny.  Hmm what?!?"
    
    "I'm sure it's nothing."
    
    "Oh no, the last time you said that, I ended up carrying you through
    a forest, listening to you sing some crazy song about being glued to
    your saddle." 
    
    "Hmmm."
    
    "Have you ever considered substituting "hmm" with something less annoying
    like "I see" or "I've just had a great thought"?"
    
    "No."
    
    Ray muttered hopelessly to himself, straightened up and prepared to leave.
    Fraser was looking down at his own boots intently but his thoughts were
    far away.  Ray decided that he wasn't going to succeed in finding out
    what was on Fraser's mind that day.  It must be something important because
    Fraser certainly wasn't reticent when it came to voicing his opinions.
    
    "I'll be here to drive you to the hospital tomorrow.  Oh, and while you're
    there, don't forget to ask for a surgical mask.  Can imagine how much
    wolf hair you must be getting in your lungs."
    
    "But I'm fine."
    
    "Great.  Then get one for me.  Do you have some kind of stainless steel
    net filter lodged in your throat that shuts out all the polar bear and
    wolf hair and Christmas tree pollen that's floating up there in Canada?"
    
    "No."
    
    Ray shook his head in frustration and walked down the hallway.  As he
    reached the staircase, he felt Fraser following at his elbow.  He turned
    around and saw Fraser looking at him solemnly.  Something must really
    be bothering the Mountie and Ray shrugged, mentally preparing himself
    for some earthshaking revelation.
    
    "What?  Say it, Benny or I'm gonna have to stay here all night waiting
    for you to say something you really want to say but don't want to say
    now and will probably say anyway much later after it has blown up like
    an overheated casserole in a microwave right in my unsuspecting face."
    
    Fraser nodded, licked his lower lip, gestured uncertainly, and drew in
    a deep breath.
    
    "You know, Ray, it's rather strange..."
    
    "What's strange?" 
    
    "State's Attorney St. Laurent's behavior this morning."
    
    "Yeah, and Elaine says that she's been that way for more than a week
    now. So what?  She's not exactly you friendly, 1-800 ambulance chasing
    lawyer.  She's that way because she's got to maintain a tough-as-nails
    prosecutor reputation.  Maybe she has a big case coming up or something."
    
    "I disagree, Ray.  I believe she was feeling very ill and barring influenza,
    food poisoning and pre-menstrual tension, there are very few ailments
    that could have brought about that singular set of symptoms...."
    
    "What're you getting at, Benny?"
    
    "Ray, she said that *men* wouldn't understand her problem which led me
    to believe that her illness was gender specific.  She also said that
    we would embarrass her if we attempted to help her.  This points to the
    very personal nature of her problem."
    
    "Yeah?"
    
    "She wasn't feeling well at 8:23 this morning, Ray."
    
    "So she was sick in the morning.  I don't see what........."
    
    Realization dawned upon him and Ray's eyes looked like they were about
    to fall out of their sockets.
    
    "Oh_my_God..........I...I...need a drink."
    
    "But you don't drink."
    
    "That's why I need one."
    
    ***************************************************************** 
    
    They wound up taking out milk shakes to a small park by the lake.  That
    spot had been one of Ray's favorite places when he was a kid.  He could
    recall his mother taking him there while she was pregnant with Francesca.
    He even remembered his mother telling him that was the name she was going
    to give the baby if it turned out to be a girl.  He had been infatuated
    with one of his elementary school teachers then.  A Miss Abdullah.  Miss
    Zaleha Abdullah.  He remembered trying to persuade his mother to name
    the baby Zaleha Vecchio.  The two friends watched the setting sun and
    the Question walked a tight rope in the air between them.  Fraser glanced
    repeatedly over at his friend waiting for him to break the uncomfortable
    silence.  Ray finally sighed. 
    
    "We took the necessary precautions, Benny."
    
    Fraser nodded encouragingly.
    
    "You think there are other men?"
    
    "Ray..." Fraser said reproachfully and shook his head.
    
    "I know.  I know."
    
    Fraser inclined his head slightly and let Ray go on without interruption.
    
    "I mean...I love kids.  I love my little nephews and nieces a lot.  But
    they are still someone else's kids, right?  My God, what an incredible
    responsibility.  You gotta teach them and feed them and look out for
    'em.  After that, you gotta make sure they become good people and not
    some low-life psychotic who's depressed all the time.  I've never thought
    much about the whole deal.   That was always something ahead of me, y'know.
    So far ahead.  Have you ever...felt like...like a Dad?"
    
    "When Dief had puppies, I felt very protective toward them.  I didn't
    want anyone to hurt them but I also didn't want them to become pampered
    house pets.  And when we found that baby in your car, there was a certain
    inexplicable emotion..."
    
    "Yeah, me too.....you think I'd be a good Dad, Benny?  Better than my
    old man?  God, I don't want to turn out like him."
    
    Fraser smiled reassuringly at his best friend.  "You'd make a wonderful
    father, Ray.  You learn from your own father's mistakes.  We all do."
    
    Then he put an arm around his friend's shoulder and the two continued
    looking at the darkening western skies.  Before darkness completely engulfed
    them, Benton Fraser saw Bob Fraser sitting on his other side, smiling
    gently in that special fatherly way at him.
    
    **************************************************************
    
    The two sat in the Riv as Ray dialed Louise St. Laurent's home number.
    Ray wanted Fraser to be with him when he asked Louise for confirmation.
    He glanced nervously over at the Canadian and held on to the cell phone
    for dear life.  Fraser gave him a thumbs up sign and nodded.
    
    "Hi, Louise?  It's Ray..."
    
    "Yes, Vecchio?"
    
    "Uh, I have two questions for you...First one, would you come with me
    to that big annual police ball next Friday?"
    
    Silence.
    
    "Louise?"
    
    "Well, Lieutenant Governor Gracy's asked me two weeks ago."
    
    "Oh...that's okay then."
    
    "Yes."
    
    "What?"
    
    "I haven't said yes to Gracy so yes..I'll go with you."
    
    "Oh...that's great...."
    
    "It's much better if I go with you.  There will be far less political
    pressure and I'll enjoy myself more.  I have to be present at the ball
    to represent the State's Attorney's office and the press would be merciless
    if they smell any scandalous entanglements.  The Lieutenant Governor's
    recently divorced." 
    
    "I'm an unknown safe bet right, Louise?"
    
    "Ray, you know I have to watch my back.  Besides, I would rather go with
    you than with anyone else."
    
    "I understand, Louise.  And it's good to know that you enjoy my company
    as much as I do yours."
    
    Counselor Fraser nodded approvingly.  Louise St. Laurent  went on. 
    
    "Ray, I'm not saying this to make you feel bad but I feel like a huge
    burden's been lifted off my shoulders.  I had been so worried about the
    ball for the past two weeks.  Harrowing would have been an understatement.
    I've been thinking about what to say to Gracy, what to say to the press,
    what to say to my colleagues and subordinates, what to wear, how I'd
    look.  I didn't want to look too robust and rosy.  The media might misinterpret
    it."
    
    "Been dieting, Louise?"
    
    "I'm relieved enough even to admit that to you.  The worst case scenario,
    Ray.  A devastating crash diet you men never have to worry about going
    through.  I was physically sick for the last...."
    
    Ray missed the rest of her sentence as he slumped against the steering
    wheel feeling his whole chest deflate with relief.  Fraser clasped his
    friend's shoulder anxiously and felt it shaking limply.  But it was shaking
    in a good way. 
    
         *Epilogue*
    
    Fraser patted Ray's shoulder to console his seemingly distraught friend,
    "It's alright, Ray..."
    
    Ray silently shut off the phone after a brief goodbye to Louise.  He
    turned his head to look at his friend, a strange expression creeping
    into his grayish green eyes. 
    
    "No, it's not Benny...she's...she's suing me.  She's naming me as the
    father in a palimony suit."
    
    "Can she do that?"
    
    "Oh yeah, she's got ways to make me pay and pay and pay....will you vouch
    for me, Benny?  Testify about the integrity of my character and all that?"
    
    "Of course, Ray."
    
    "On second thought, maybe I should skip the country.  It will kill my
    Mum if she finds out about this and I'll never be able to work in this
    city again.  Okay, I've got it.  Get out, Benny.  I'm going to drive
    across to Canada tonight."
    
    "Ray, don't do this.  You *have* to think.  Please, Ray!"
    
    "Get out, Benny.  Get out before I throw you out."  
    
    Ray started the Riv's engine.  Fraser quickly reached over and pulled
    the key out of the ignition and pocketed it.  
    
    "No.  I won't let you do this.  Listen to me.."
    
    "No, Benny.  *You*  listen to me.  You already know what a sap means,
    right?  Well, *you* are a sap, the biggest one of them all, the mother
    to end all saps." 
    
    Ray was laughing so hard by this time that the Riv was literally shaking
    with him.  Fraser stared at him uncomprehendingly.
    
    "I'm jerking you around, Benny."
    
    "I'm unfamiliar with that saying."
    
    "It means that you owe me for scaring a few years outta my life." 
    
    "I'm still not following, Ray."
    
    "Oh God...is there any other reason why I should be laughing, Frasier?"
    
    "Aahh!  So, everything remains...status quo between you and State's Attorney
    St. Laurent?"
    
    "Yeah, but you still have to get out of my car."
    
    "Why, Ray?"
    
    "Because I feel the need to pummel you into the ground, that's why!"
    
    					DONE 
    

* * *


End file.
